Killing Time
by Evaryn
Summary: p/t Tom and B'Elanna are trapped together. B'Elanna goes Klingon! COMPLETED!!!!
1. Killing Time

I know they aren't mine, I'm just borrowing them for a little while.

Killing Time

Three days, honestly Tom wasn't sure how much time passed, but they both agreed it felt like three days, and once a day one large bowl of... food... and a large fountain of water was placed in the middle of the room.  "Pretend its cereal."  Tom suggested after they started at it for a while.  Without a tricorder they couldn't tell what was in it, but with the other option being to go hungry, there wasn't much of an option.

The bowl contained small round pieces of... Tom picked up a piece and smelled it.  It didn't smell like anything.  "What do you think?"

B'Elanna looked at it with disgust.  "Not me."

With a deep breath, he popped it in his mouth and chewed.  It crunched.  "Tastes like oat bran."  He said, now ready to test the water.  It looked and smelled okay.  He took a drink.  This at least tasted like real water.

"I knew someone with a dog once."  B'Elanna said slowly as she eyed the food.  "His food looked like this."

"So?"

"Do you have any idea what they put in dog food?"  She cast a glare in his direction.

"It isn't dog food.  It's better then Leola root."

B'Elanna took a piece.  "Ugh, I don't know, at least Leola root had a taste to it."

They ate about a quarter of the food, and after five minutes passed and neither of them touched it, the bowl disappeared.  That was their first indication that they were being watched. 

B'Elanna paced.  She explored every inch of the damn room, but could find nothing.  No panels, no doors, just the one vent below the bunks too small to even fit her hand into.  And the clothes, bad enough being kidnapped by something, but she woke up wearing some kind of cotton jump suit, which meant it had to be put on her somehow, and having some alien playing dress-up with her unconscious body sent creeps up her spine.  It made her want to break something, but even that seemed to be impossible as their bunks, the table, and even the chair were all fastened to the ground.  Even the damn food bowl and water fountain were immovable.  It made her want to scream.  

"You're making me dizzy."  Tom muttered from the bunk.  Unlike B'Elanna he'd hardly moved at all.

"I intend to get out of here, and if you could think of doing something more constructive then just sitting there and watching me, maybe we'd find a way out!"

He grinned at her.  "I can think of worse places to be confined."  

B'Elanna just about answered him before it dawned on her that he wasn't joking.  

He stood up and took a drink from the fountain.  "Look at it this way, we aren't injured or dead, we have food and water, so obviously they don't intend to kill us, yet.  Voyager is going to know we're missing by now, and it's only a matter of time before they find us."  He shrugged and looked around the room.  "I'm not saying we shouldn't be trying to escape, but don't drive yourself nuts about it either."

"Fine."  She sat down on the bench by the table.  "What should we do then?"

Tom grinned.  "You want suggestions?"

"Pig."  But she couldn't help but grin just a little in return.  "We're being watched remember?"

"I know."  He looked at the ground a second, trying to be serious.  "Well, we could discuss the merits of incorporating Borg technology into the navigational systems."

"But we're both against that."  B'Elanna pointed out.

"Okay.  So which one of us should pretend to be Seven?"

B'Elanna decided to let Tom play the part of Seven.  It was a stupid discussion, but it killed time, and that seemed to be the only thing for them left to do.

B'Elanna noticed the hiss first and saw the gas crawling along the floor.  "Tom."  She said quietly and moved away.  Tom stared at it for a moment.  B'Elanna watched him, and she could see the emotions that played across his face.  Confusion, fear, anger, anger won, but he didn't do anything, there was no enemy to fight.  He simply stood and watched as the gas clouded the room.

The gas slowly and insidiously filled the room, and Tom proved to be more susceptible to whatever poisons it contained.  He felt heavy; his eyes burned and watered, and eventually it became difficult to breath.  B'Elanna helped him sit down, but she felt it too.  Neither of the said a word, simply held hands and tried to stay awake.  The same thoughts raced through both their minds, what if this is it?  The end?  B'Elanna held Tom as his eyes slowly closed and he slipped into unconsciousness.  Not dead; under her hand she could still feel his chest rising and falling, she could still feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.  Not dead yet…

When B'Elanna woke up, she was alone.  A headache throbbed behind her eyes, and as she struggled to her feet, her coordination felt off.  She didn't start screaming threats or demands she didn't make a sound.  No answers would come to her here; all she could do was wait.  

Let me know if you think the story is worth being continued…

But please, if you can't be kind, at least have the decency to be vague.  J


	2. And so it begins

First of all, thanks for all the reviews!!!!  

The characters aren't mine, but if someone would like to give them to me I promise to take care of them.

Killing Time part 2

To wait.  B'Elanna viewed waiting as an excruciating exercise in futility.  Not that she never succumbed to it, but in hindsight action always resulted in a more satisfying outcome.  Unfortunately pacing proved to be the only active thing she could do at the moment.  

The dog food arrived in the glow of a transporter beam.  B'Elanna almost took a bite before noticing the bowl contained half the amount it did the day before.  Waves of nausea rushed though her body and landed in the pit of her stomach.  It didn't have to mean anything.  It only meant that whoever held them captive realized that they only needed to feed one person in this room now.  It did not mean Tom was gone for good.  

B'Elanna took a step away from the table and sat down on the bunk.  Action.  She couldn't do much, but she held the control over one thing, and she made her decision.  

"I will not eat until you return Lt. Paris."  

The food disappeared.  She was still alone. 

…….

A feather light touch against her cheek.  Panic tore her out of the sleep she finally fell into and –

Tom.  

He sat on the floor beside her bunk, his hand next to where her face had been moments ago.  "It's okay."  He whispered and brought his hand up to her arm, needing to feel the contact of her skin.   B'Elanna didn't move, she could only stare at him afraid that if she blinked, or even dared to breath, he'd disappear again.  A large bruise colored the left side of his head and extended to the edge of his eye.  B'Elanna took his hand, and saw the knuckles on both his hands were bruised and crusted with dried blood.  

"What happened?  What did they do to you?"  

"I talked to the Captain."  Tom answered excitedly but still in a whisper.  B'Elanna pushed up the sleeves of his cotton shirt; there were dark purple bruises along his forearms.  He pulled the sleeves back down and took both her hands in his own.  "Did you hear what I said?"  This time he spoke a little louder, but his voice sounded raspy.

"Yes, you talked to the Captain."  B'Elanna answered.  She saw bruising like that back in the Maquis, specifically on several members of a group of prisoners they rescued from a Cardiassian prison ship.  They were defensive bruises.  "What happened?"

"They call themselves the Saundia, and they're under the impression that Voyager is a scouting ship of a larger attack force.  You and I are here because the geological survey we were conducting in the Flyer came too close to one of their colonies, which I might add is cloaked and explains why we never detected it."  He watched her face as he spoke, and he recognized the this-isn't-over-look, which was fine, just so long as he maintained the let's-deal-with-this-later-look back at her.  "From what I saw Voyager has the better fire power, so the Saundia is going to keep us in protective custody in the hopes that Voyager won't destroy them while we're still on board."

"And so they aren't going to be very cooperative in getting us back to Voyager either, right?"  She watched him nod his agreement.  "What did they need you for?"  

Tom shrugged.  "The Captain wanted proof that we're still alive."

"What did she say?  Did you look like this when you talked to her?"  

"She informed me that she's doing everything to resolve the situation, and I assured her we were both fine."  He touched a finger to the bruise on his left temple.  "This happened after communications were terminated."  He got up off the ground stiffly and sat up on the bunk.  "These aliens go beyond paranoia.  We wear military uniforms and carry the name of the Federation.  They just don't get it that the Federation isn't on their doorstep ready to invade."  

"So how are we going to convince them otherwise?"  

Tom grinned.  "Maybe that isn't the solution."  

……………

Reviews please?  How am I doing so far?


	3. A plan?

"Oh?  And just what would the solution be?"  B'Elanna tone dripped with sarcasm.

"I don't know."  Tom answered.  "Yet.  What about you?  Any suggestions."  

"No.  I don't know.  I hate this, I can't think of a single bloody thing that could help us escape."  She got up and paced, again.  She felt like a fish in a small tank, back and forth back and forth, but what else was there to do?  Talk? That's all they did so far, no action.  She grabbed Tom's hand and looked at his knuckles.  "You fought them."  She said proudly.  "What are they like?  Were you able to hurt them at all?"

Tom pulled his hands away.  "Yes."  He rubbed the scrapes on his hand thoughtfully.  "But that isn't the solution B'Elanna.  We can't just fight our way out of this."  He watched as she slammed her fist into the wall.  "Captain Janeway is doing everything she can to convince the Saundian's to trust her.  If we go an"

She cut him off frustrated yell.  "Trust us?  Look at what they did to you!"  Damn if there were only something solid to throw, something to hit.  She slammed her fist into the wall.  "Do you think Janeway will still be intent on dealing with these aliens after she sees how you've been treated?"

"She doesn't have a choice."  Tom said quietly.

"How can you remain so calm?"  

"You think I'm calm?"  He answered and stood up.  He walked over to B'Elanna and took her hands.  "I want to get out of here every bit as much as you do."   He pulled her back to the bunk to sit down.  "But we can't do anything from here.  The Captain has managed to arrange that she speak to me every few hours."

They sat together waiting.  Again.  "Do you think they'll use the gas again?"  

"No."  Tom answered.  "Apparently it doesn't mix with my human physiology.  They'll use a transporter."  

"And what then?"  B'Elanna asked.  "How do you know they'll be taking you and not me?"

"I told them I'd only cooperate if they leave you alone."  

B'Elanna swore under her breath.  "You have no right!  I'm stronger then you are…"

A transporter glow encompassed his body, and yet again, she was left alone.  

………..

Tom surveyed his new surroundings.  He stood in the same room he had the first time, though this time the aliens held metal sticks.  Of coarse they weren't just sticks, he already experienced the shock from the end of it touching skin.  The aliens themselves stood slightly taller and wider, looking very much like humans but for having a very smooth yellowish complexion with deeply set red round eyes.  True to his word, he did not resist this time; he stood still as one cautiously moved around him and fastened something cold and hard around his wrists.  Though the restraint didn't feel tight, a numbness encompassed his hands almost immediately.  Slowly the feeling crept up his arms to his elbows, but stopped there.  A stick touched the back of his uniform, no shock, but he understood that if he didn't obey one would be coming shortly.  He walked forwards and followed his entourage of guards out of the room and down a long, very bright corridor.  

The led him onto what seemed to be a command center, like the one he saw before, but a different room.  They instructed him to sit, and one alien in particular came closer and paid him more attention then the other did.  

He recognized this one from last time, though they all looked very similar, this one had yellow eyes rather then red.  Like the last time too, only this one spoke.  "You're Captain demands your return."  It said.  Male or female, Tom couldn't tell.  "On screen."  

Tom looked up at the wall, where Kathryn's face now appeared larger then life.  She looked at Tom and frowned.  

"Captain."  Tom acknowledged her.  

She nodded.  "How are you holding up?"

"Peachy."  

Yellow-eyes grunted.  "We demand proof of your peaceful intentions!"  He barked.  He held a stick close to the back of Tom's neck.  

Tom looked up at the Captain with as much calm as he could muster.  If the alien did what Tom thought it intended to do… he wondered just how peaceful his Captain would be after that.  And he wondered just how stupid yellow-eyes had to be not to notice the threat in Kathryn's eyes.  

"What kind of proof are you hoping for, I've already…" She stopped talking as the stick touched the back of Tom's neck.  "Return my crewmen now."  

Yellow-eyes threw down the stick.  Tom didn't see what happened next, being too busy trying to catch his breath.  The screen disappeared by the time he looked up again. 


	4. Going Klingon

Chapter Four… this is it! There is no more!   
  
  
The Saundian ship rocked with weapon fire.   
  
For the moment Tom remained in the command station, seated with his hands restrained and numb. Now the Sandian's would surrender.   
  
"Fire!" The yellow-eyed idiot barked. The red-eyes ran to the command stations and yellow-eyes stared at the screen, with an expression Tom could only guess equated to seething. No one paid attention to the prisoner.   
  
Of coarse he couldn't do much with his hands tied and useless. But... he stood up. A sharp pain coursed down his spine, apparently from the damn shock stick, but it didn't stop him. Succumb to an annoying cramp, or fight? Hard decision, not. He took a run for the corridor.   
  
Where are you going Tom? He asked himself. Good question. The corridor ran in two directions, left and right. Neither direction held any meaning to him. And if he did run, then what? Hide for a few minutes and be totally ineffective until they find you? Not a good plan. He looked again at yellow-eyes. He took another run, this time straight for the alien. He didn't seriously believe he'd be able to win a fight like this, but who could tell? He'd gotten lucky before.   
  
He hit yellow-eyes in the back with his shoulder.   
  
And fell backwards. So much for luck. At least last time when he used his fists he'd been able to elicit some sort of reaction. This time, nothing. Unless you count yellow-eyes attention something. Not good.   
  
Tom scrambled backwards. Yellow-eyes stepped forwards with the shock stick. Weapons fire rocked the alien ship again; all the aliens stumbled to the right. Tom struggled to get further away, but without the use of his arms, he could not regain his feet.   
  
...  
  
B'Elanna felt transporter energy engulf her body. She seethed the whole hour of Tom's absence; Klingon curses she hadn't even thought of in over ten years came back to her with surprising ease. Even the original variations she created felt satisfying on her lips. How dare he try to protect her!   
  
Stupid headstrong emotionally stunted human P'tak! A targ had better sense then he did!   
  
To Protect her!!! The nerve! She'd show him just how much protection she needed from cowardly beady eyed aliens like these! Protect her! Tom would be the one needing protection....  
  
She embraced the tingly feel of what others described as a thousand Myrikan ants crawling all over their body. The ship rocked again from weapons fire, and she knew weapons fire when she felt it. No other sensation in space felt quite like it, and every hand onboard Voyager understood it intimately. What kind of trouble did Tom manage to instigate now?   
  
She would have asked him, but all words froze on her lips. She now stood in large room of consuls (maybe the alien's equivalent to a bridge) surrounded by about ten large hostile looking beady-eyed aliens. Her attention, however, encompassed none of them.  
  
"Tom?" She moved closer. His form remained still, but the way he laid showed her only his back, his front lay towards the wall with his outfit hiding most of his body.   
  
As she reached out her hand, her imagination worked over time. All the hostility she felt moments ago, vanished, replaced with a single hollow fear. She felt the sensation of falling. This couldn't happen, not to us. I can't lose him now, she thought, even as her earlier assessment of him held; a stupid frail human with no clue of his limitations. He insisted on keeping up with her in everything, and he insisted on protecting her from things he should be seeking her protection of. No. This couldn't happen.   
  
She marched past the aliens who at the moment remained oddly still and touched his arm with her hand. His body, through the clothing felt warm. She rolled him onto his back and watched a metal restraint bracelet fall broken to the ground beside him. "Fortune favors the foolish. Right?" She asked quietly.   
  
His eyes opened as much as they could beyond the swelling, but he looked away from her towards the wall and didn't answer.   
  
"Tom, what happened?" B'Elanna held him closely afraid he might pass out.   
  
He coughed. "Negotiations failed."   
  
B'Elanna took a deep breath. A calming breath she learned from Tuvok, meant for mediation but over time integrated into more practical uses. Deep breaths, center her energies, and focus on the battle ahead. Moments like these made her truly appreciate her Klingon heritage. To fight, to taste the blood of her enemy, the anticipation of the carnage ahead sang loudly through her veins.   
  
The ten large beady-eyed aliens recognized blood lust and adjusted their hold on the shock sticks. B'Elanna felt the world open up to her, as though her spirit expanded large enough to fill the entire room. She felt, rather then heard Tom moving behind her. She smelt the fear of her enemy.   
  
Another volley of weapons fire rocked the ship. Several consuls, now unmanned, sparked and smoked but the aliens did not waver their attention from the woman standing before them. B'Elanna did not move as Tom slowly walked around and beside her. He did not come in between her and the enemy.   
  
Seeing him move, one of the aliens advanced threateningly. Tom stopped, and waited. He'd seen B'Elanna like this before.   
  
The alien didn't stand a chance. In a fury of limbs and a harsh guttural battle cry, B'Elanna now stood holding the shock stick over the prone form of the beaten beady-eyed alien. Tom resumed his slow pace towards the damaged consuls. He looked at the yellow-eyed leader.   
  
"You will hail my ship now."   
  
Yellow-eye hesitated. B'Elanna stepped forwards towards him (for lack of a more specific gender). He stepped up to the consul. The screen reappeared with Janeway seated comfortably in her command chair. "Surrender." Her voice held steel.   
  
"Do it." Tom ordered after only a couple seconds of inaction, and yellow-eye keyed in a sequence. Tom watched, and then turned towards the screen. "Shields are off-line Captain."   
  
With a barely perceptible nod she stood and walked towards the screen. "Two to beam aboard." She ordered.   
  
B'Elanna casually tossed the shock stick to the ground, and spit on it. Moments later she felt the same transport energy encompass her yet again. When the glow subsided, she stood in the transporter bay of Voyager beside Tom.   
  
Deep breathes. She watched the Doctor advanced quickly, wrapping an arm around Tom in an effort to help him remain upright.   
  
Center the energy.   
  
Release.   
  
The song in her veins subsided. Tom. She hurried to her mate's side. They were safe now. She still felt pissed at the fact he felt he needed to protect her, but she felt the anger swiftly evolving into pride. The lecture would still come, but for now she just felt happy to be home.   
  
The end!  
  
Please take pity on me and let me know how you liked the story... 


End file.
